


Lena's Great British Bake Off

by uhpockuhlipz



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, F/F, I hope it doesn't suck lmao, Idk how to describe this, It's pure fluff, except it's technically in the same 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:23:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhpockuhlipz/pseuds/uhpockuhlipz
Summary: Lena loves to bake in her spare time. Kara encourages her to audition for The Great British Bake Off.(No knowledge of the GBBO required.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been obsessed with the GBBO recently so I made a crossover. It's kind of cracky and fluffy and I hope you enjoy.  
> ALSO! Tumblr user thecatsbian made me some awesome cover art for this fic. Check it out!  
> proudlyunicorn.tumblr.com/post/158686214343/lenas-great-british-bake-off-pairing-lena-and

Lena Luthor hasn’t always known how to bake.

 

Growing up in the Luthor household, the only people allowed in the kitchen were the staff. Meals were either prepared by them or catered, or sometimes spent in expensive restaurants where her mother would send Lena disapproving looks and correct her manners or posture or any other number of things until she’d learned to just sit still and remain silent.

 

Then when she’d been eight, Lena had been shipped off to a boarding school in London where all meals were prepared for her as well. She’d been an impossibly lonely child with no peers her own age (at six years younger than the majority of her classmates, she’d been seen as more of a burden than a playmate) and so she’d often spent what spare time she had poking around the little visited parts of the school.

 

The head cook down in the kitchens took a shine to a small, defiant Lena after he caught her sneaking into a fridge and had offered to let her work off her stolen pudding debt by having her help with the baking for that night’s dinner. She’d kept coming back after that because the kitchen had been warm and welcoming (she’d had vague sensory memories of her four years in Ireland, the smell of her mum baking soda bread in the early mornings as she hummed old tunes to herself and kneaded the dough) and it was the closest Lena had felt to home in so long. So when Lena wasn’t attending her classes or doing her work, she was helping in the kitchens.

 

And she’d been hooked.

 

It’s a little-known fact about the Luthor heiress. She doesn’t discuss it in interviews and she doesn’t often display the skill to others. It’s not a lifestyle, after all, but a pastime. Something she does in the evenings to relax after hours upon hours of tedious corporate dealings. She’s proud of L-Corp, she is, and she’s so pleased to have turned it around in the last few years. She would not trade that for a career in anything else.

 

But she doesn’t love the work like she loves baking.

 

And that’s how Lena ended up submitting an audition to the The Great British Bake Off.

 

Well, that, and because Kara wouldn’t stop bothering her until she’d submitted one.

 

(“You know Ireland isn’t part of Great Britain, right?” Lena had asked dryly. “And that I’m technically more American than Irish at this point.”

 

“Yeah, but they’ve had Irish contestants before! And you pretty much grew up in London anyway. Plus, you’re like, a hot, sexy CEO with a Fortune 500 company who bakes amazing stuff in your spare time, Lena.” As if to prove a point, Kara had taken one of Lena’s freshly baked muffins, tossing it from hand to hand before taking a hefty bite and grinning around a mouthful.

 

“They’re going to take one look at your audition tape and _beg_ you on.”)

 

They’ve been together for nearly three years and it’s still impossible to say no to her, a thing Lena finds to be remarkably unfair, and yet not at all surprising. She doesn’t _want_ to say no to her, really. She is happiest when she can make Kara smile, make her laugh, make her feel genuine joy. She loves her beyond all reason.

 

And besides that, she kind of wants to see if she can do it.

 

So she submits the audition and they binge watch all of the seasons of the show and Lena tries to pretend she isn’t freaking out over it a little bit. She practices on Kara, who cheerfully eats everything she bakes with obvious enthusiasm.

 

(“You can’t just keep saying ‘this is awesome’ for every practice, Kara. I need actual feedback.”

 

“But they _are_ awesome.” Kara grins around a piece of bread.

 

Lena flicks flour at her face with a quiet laugh. “You’re useless, Kara Danvers.”

 

Kara catches her hands and tugs her in between her legs where she sits on the counter, leans in to nudge their noses together. “But you love me.”

 

Lena goes soft. “Yeah, I do.” Her finger prods Kara’s side. “And I love your black hole stomach because I’ve got another batch of tarts coming out.”

 

“Awesome!”

 

“ _Kara.”_

 

“Sorry, sorry.”)

 

She doesn’t expect to make it past round one, but somehow she does. She makes it past several rounds with fairly decent commentary and she wonders if it has to do with the fact she’s used to working with time crunches (“ _Lena, I’m staaarving”)_ or that she’s used to having to bake in large quantities.

 

She expects to be nervous, but she’s not, and she thinks that’s probably down to the same reasons.

 

They request batches of eight, batches of twelve, batches of thirty-six, and Lena can barely disguise her scoff. (Thirty-six, is that it? She’s used to making batches twice that size to appease Kara’s appetite and still have leftovers for everyone else.)

 

Every week when she’s in their temporary European home again, she balances work with practice, all while stealing kisses from Kara between batches. It’s fun, it’s exciting, and it’s less terrifying than she might have thought. There’s no pressure really, she supposes. There’s no reward for winning but pride and bragging rights. It’s actually much less stressful than running L-Corp, and especially less stressful than running L-Corp from abroad.

 

She doesn’t mention why she’s abroad to anyone, of course. How embarrassing would that be?

 

Kara spends a lot of time flying back and forth and it’s draining, Lena can tell, but she’s never less than enthusiastic when she lands and Lena has something else for her to try.

 

She’s gone full time on the weekends, as Lena stays on set for the show and they can’t be together anyway, but she feels sad just knowing she’s gone for those two days and thinks of her constantly when she bakes. She thinks of her when Paul and Mary stop to chat about her designs, she thinks about her when she’s multitasking, she thinks about her when she’s waiting for her dough to prove. She thinks about her when Mel plucks up scraps and pops them into her mouth with a hum of delight and she thinks about her especially when Sue stops to chat when the cameras aren’t on them, asking how her girlfriend is and chatting about her own.

 

(“She’s useless and constantly hungry,” Lena tells her with obvious adoration shining in her eyes. “I miss her so bloody much when I’m here.”)

 

Her designs end up reflecting Kara almost every week, from the color of a fondant she creates (“What a lovely shade of blue,” Mary comments) to the dumplings that remind her of this place Kara likes on the corner of Main back in National City. The fact she misses her so much should be frightening, but she doesn’t feel that way at all.

 

Not when every Monday becomes a relief because Kara returns and she can tuck herself into her arms and feel at peace for the first time since she’d left.

 

(“I know you can’t be with me anyway and you’ve got a city to save back home, but I hate being apart from you so often,” Lena mumbles against her shoulder. Kara strokes her fingers through her hair and rubs the base of her neck where she holds her tension, kissing the top of her head.

 

“I don’t like it either,” Kara says softly, squeezing her around the shoulders, “But you’re doing something so amazing, Lena. And I’m so, so proud of you and everything you’re accomplishing.” She pulls back to grin at her. “Plus, your accent’s getting all thick and it’s really nice to listen to.”

 

It’s enough to get her through another week, another weekend, and back around to Monday again when Lena keeps advancing.)

 

It’s hard to sleep, on those nights Kara is away. She’s grown so used to having her in bed beside her the last few years that the little twin bed feels empty and too cold every weekend and she ends up lying awake for far too long until suddenly it’s time to bake again. But even tired, Lena has a calm and steady hand and her bakes go over well nearly every round.

 

As the weeks progress, she wins star baker four times, which is a pretty impressive number that Kara constantly brags about every time Lena comes home with the title.

 

(“What are you looking at?” Lena asks, glancing up in her direction as she brushes her wrist across her cheek to push back a loose curl.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Kara sing-songs in return, her feet kicking so that her heels knock against the kitchen cabinets. “Just my girlfriend, who’s been a star baker for four weeks of ten weeks.” She grins massively and Lena rolls her eyes, laughing as she dips a finger into her filling and tastes it almost absently. She notices the way Kara’s eyes hone in on the action and narrows her own, jabbing a dripping spoon in her direction.

 

“Don’t you dare, Kara Danvers,” she says in the most authoritative voice she can manage given that it’s _Kara_ , “This filling has been very precisely measured out.”

 

“I just wanna taste a _little_ ,” Kara argues immediately, leaning closer to the pot. “Just a sample.”

 

“No way. I’ve seen your sample sizes.”

 

Kara heaves a sigh. “Fiiiine. Guess I’ll have to go for the next best thing.” And she tugs Lena into her, capturing her lips in a long kiss until Lena’s melting into her, fingers curling into her shirt just over her hips.

 

“Mmm,” she says when she draws back, her finger tapping Lena’s nose lightly. “Delicious.”

 

“Brat,” Lena scoffs, but her heart is beating just a little faster and she knows Kara can hear it because she’s still just grinning at her and she has to turn away quickly before she gets distracted and burns her filling.)

 

When the finale comes around, Lena is more than a little surprised to find herself still in the game. She’d never expected to get this far but here she is; just her, a rather brusque alien named Th’nok of an unspecified gender (possibly a gender that doesn’t exist on Earth, Lena thinks), and a rather nice young man named Sahil, who Lena likes quite a bit.

 

The nice thing about the finale is that not only are past contestants allowed back for the day to watch, but friends and family are invited as well. Kara stays for the weekend-long picnic, which makes Lena more nervous than she had been during any other week, and Alex and Maggie flew over as well. They’re all sitting out on the lawn, chatting and eating and waiting to meet Lena at the end of the day.

 

She’d been discussing taking a vacation with Kara while planning for her signature challenge, an escape to the Luthor’s private island (and now just Lena’s, as the sole Luthor not incarcerated for life), and so she’d ended up planning a sort of tropical themed signature challenge. She soaks the pound cake in coconut flavored rum, prepares the mango and pineapple, and sculpts her signature trifle. And as she builds it, she thinks of Kara on the beach in nothing but a bikini for a week or so and can’t help but hum and smile her way through the bake.

 

Paul and Mary adore it.

 

For the technical, they must complete one of Paul or Mary’s recipes, but they don’t know what it is until the two judges leave and Sue begins to explain what they’re making with Mel chiming in occasionally. And when they lift the cloth and read the vaguest directions possible, they begin to sculpt Paul’s savarin.

 

She’s never made a savarin in her life and isn’t quite sure she’s going about it correctly, but it looks and smells quite good by the end and again the judges are very positive about it so she’s pleased enough. Even more pleased that the day is over because it means barely taking the time to whip off her apron before she’s through the tent flaps and searching for Kara, Alex, and Maggie.

 

(It doesn’t take long because nothing takes long with Kara and before she can even look around fully, she’s being scooped into strong arms. “I didn’t spy,” she whispers as she draws back, her fingers light on Lena’s face.

 

“Much,” Alex adds dryly. Kara shoots her a glare, but when she looks back to Lena, her expression is a bit sheepish.

 

“Only a little, right at the end.”

 

“And at the beginning,” Maggie mumbles. “And a few times in the middle.”

 

“So how’d you do?” Kara asks, a little louder now, ignoring Alex and Maggie’s identical smirks as her ears go pink and her hands fall to Lena’s. Lena laughs and squeezes her fingers gently. She doesn’t mind Kara looking in. Not today, at least.

 

“No peeking in tomorrow,” she says firmly. “If I think you’re looking, I’m going to be nervous and I’ll mess up for sure. So you have to promise.”

 

“I have to?” Kara says, sounding rather doubtful.

 

“Kara.”

 

“Okay, Okay, I promise.”

 

Then Lena is in Kara’s arms again and they both sigh happily into one another until Alex clears her throat and demands they get their shit together so they can all go grab some dinner.)

 

And then it’s Sunday.

 

Sunday, showstopper day, and they’re to design the most amazing cake they possibly can. It must be technically perfect in every aspect, it must show creativity, and it must be at least thirty centimeters tall. So at _least_ a foot tall, Lena reminds herself as she begins.

 

She’s never been so nervous about a bake and it’s not even the bake itself, but the fact that this is the end and the cake she’s making is… it’s important.

 

They are supposed to make a tribute to something important to them.

 

So Lena makes National City. She makes the buildings stand at various levels, labels the tallest L-Corp in her best impression of the logo she’d designed for her company. And soaring high above, made of modeling chocolate and set on a clear pipe stuck into the top of L-Corp, is Supergirl.

 

She sculpts Kara’s miniature lovingly, with as much attention to detail as she can spare within the time limit. She makes sure to perfectly form the crest on tiny Supergirl’s chest, makes sure to get the lines perfect. It’s the crest of the house of El, and it’s the most important part.

 

Well. Almost.

 

She’s the last to bring her cake up, and does so with her heart racing.

 

“I know it’s kind of unorthodox,” she begins when she wheels the cake up, “But I’d like very much to invite my… my girlfriend into the tent, if it’s alright? To watch this bit.” And the group of four standing at the judge’s station study the cake with surprise before they begin to smile.

 

“A bit unorthodox,” Mary agrees, “But I think we can make an exception this time.”

 

One of the crew members goes to fetch Kara, who comes back looking rather baffled and very nervous. Immediately she slips her hand into Lena’s, squeezing once as she gives her a questioning look and then turns to the others. She gasps and grins studying the cake from behind and Lena smiles slightly.

 

“It’s amazing, Lena,” she breathes against her ear and Lena closes her eyes, tipping her head briefly onto Kara’s shoulder before the judges ask if they can cut and she nods slightly.

 

They sample a piece from every flavor she’s included and praise each one.

 

“You should come look at it from the front, I think,” Mel offers with a bright smile and Kara nods enthusiastically, tugging Lena around the table to look at it.

 

And there, tucked onto the miniature balcony at the top of the L-Corp building, is a small pillow with a ring sat atop it.

 

Kara freezes and stares, her mouth falling open as Lena gently picks up the ring and turns towards her.

 

She doesn’t kneel, but takes Kara’s limp hand in hers, breathing deeply as she meets Kara’s eyes. The blue of them is enhanced by the tears already shining there, by the smile already tugging at her lips.

 

“I never would have made it here without you, Kara. I never would’ve even tried. You’ve been my inspiration through every week, every design, as well as my endless sampler. I love you more… more than I have words to describe, really. Not even with my recently re-adopted British vocabulary.”

 

Kara’s laughs, a quiet, watery sound.

 

“I had this specially designed for you,” she murmurs (which here means she’d designed the metal of the band to be nearly indestructible so that Kara can’t accidentally do harm to it when she’s handling it), “And I selected the stones myself. I supervised every moment of its creation and I hope, truly hope, that you’ll agree to wear it. Marry me, Kara.” She bit her lip, eyes flickering across Kara’s face. “You will, won’t you?”

 

“Yes!” Kara all but shouts it. And then suddenly Lena’s in her arms, spinning twice before Kara sets her down again and presses kisses across her face while everyone claps enthusiastically. Their lips meet and Lena’s hand cups Kara’s face, the ring still curled into the other.

 

“I love you,” Kara breathes against her lips. “I love you, Lena Luthor...”

 

She draws back after a moment and all but thrusts out her hand for Lena to finally slip the ring onto her finger.

 

It fits perfectly.

 

..

 

The judges deliberate for nearly an hour, during which the three remaining bakers sit outside and enjoy the picnic, people coming over constantly to see Kara’s ring.

 

When they’re called up and Lena is announced the winner, when she’s surrounded by people and flowers and a trophy is thrust into her arms, she looks over the heads of the people surrounding her and finds Kara’s eyes, her smile.

 

The win barely matters at all because really, she has Kara, so she’s been the winner all along.


End file.
